


we’re all the things that we do for fun

by slytherpvff



Category: Mr. Robot (TV)
Genre: Fluff, Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Light Angst, Work In Progress
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-01
Updated: 2019-09-01
Packaged: 2020-10-04 14:23:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20472494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slytherpvff/pseuds/slytherpvff
Summary: Angela thinks she knows Mr Robot pretty well but shereallydoesn’t. And she certainly doesn’t know much about the others...Exploring Angela’s relationships throughout the years with the other alters in the Operating System.





	we’re all the things that we do for fun

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time posting a fic like this, sorry if it’s wonky to read! More info about the OS @mrf34r on tumblr

He thinks for a moment that he should probably be very,  _ very _ scared before he remembers that nobody can  _ actually _ see him. Elliot’s big hands at the ends of his arms and Elliot’s long, long legs stretched out in front of him under the worn wooden table do well to disguise him and make him look  _ regular. _

There are folders in all sorts of colors next to his elbow on the table with stuff written on them, like… Well, he can’t  _ read, _ exactly, but the big, heavy-looking book next to the folders has numbers and the Earth on it. Is it a counting book, with numbers in it so that you can learn how to count them? He wouldn’t brag about it to anybody, not really, but Charlie knows how to count all the way up to a  _ hundred. _

Ohmygosh, and there’s  _ strawberry ice cream  _ in front of him? No way, that’s his favoritest ice cream  _ ever! _ He hasn’t had it in…a long time, prpbably. Him and Elliot used to be the same tallness, the last time he visited.

Except Elliot’s not here. He’s  _ being _ Elliot again, so he has to  _ be him, _ now. Charlie has to remember to talk like him, all low and quiet, and he has to giggle and smile less. Elliot doesn’t do those things much. Charlie doesn’t want anybody to know he’s here.

But who  _ is _ here, it looks like, is a girl with yellow hair. She sits down across from him, and she has a bowl of ice cream, too.  _ Looks _ like the same amount of ice cream... Good. It wouldn’t be that fair, if she had more than him. Her hair’s held back out of her face with a crinkly, sparkly thingy, and if Charlie  _ knew _ her better, he might ask to see it and touch it because it looks really cool. Like an alien bracelet.

But he has to be Elliot right now.

“Are you not gonna eat it?” The girl asks. Charlie looks up into her really blue eyes and his hand grabs the spoon that’s sitting in the bowl automatically. Right.

“Yeah, ‘course I am. I was just thinking, that’s all.” He feels funny holding the spoon with his right hand. He always holds his markers in his left hand, but if he did that, this girl would know he was Charlie… Wouldn’t she? He’s watching his hand, now, too caught up in the specifics to look away from it. Should he change hands? Could he?

“About what?” Her voice sounds light, like how a butterfly goes through Elliot’s front yard. This doesn’t look like Elliot’s house, anyway. Where are they right now?

“Uhh…” He looks over at the folders and books and pencils and thinks that maybe he should say he was thinking about that. Can’t he just eat his ice cream and then go play by himself in the living room for a little bit? “Just...stuff.”

“So descriptive, like usual,” the girl says with a short laugh, looking down at her ice cream and scooping some up. Charlie does the same, still feeling off-balance using the wrong hand, but he manages anyways and it’s  _ yummy. _ Of  _ course, _ it is— it’s strawberries! He hums quietly to himself and has another bite. Gives the girl across from him a small Elliot-esque smile.

_ what’s her name? _ he asks his head.

_ ANGELA. _

Oh. Angela. Angel-a. A…

_ but that’s a  _ hard _ name. _

_ THEN DON’T SAY IT, LITTLE GUY. _

Is he allowed to just...not say it? Charlie glances up at An...gela before having another bite of his ice cream.

Her eyebrows move closer together.

“If you don’t want it,” she says, reaching toward his bowl, “I can have it, you don’t  _ have _ to eat it.”

“No, it’s mine!” He pulls his bowl closer to him, fast about it, and then he realizes he’s just made a big mistake.

That was rude. Elliot wouldn’t do that. Would he? Did Charlie just ruin everything? Is he going to get in trouble again?

“I’m sorry,” he says, pushing the bowl back over toward Angela, “I didn’t mean it, I’m— I’m sorry. You can have it, okay?”

“Dude, I have my own. Right here.” She tilts the bowl at him and shows him the ice cream melting in it like he’d forgotten about it, like he’s just a dumb kid and he’s not really as tall as this and he’s just annoying and stupid and give me your arm,  _ give me your arm, Elliot... _

“I’m, uh…” Charlie stands up from Elliot’s chair as the room moves around in circles. He’s too tall, really too tall, pressure building up behind his eyes like a bruise. Like a storm cloud. The F0g is closing in around his head. He wants to go home. “I’m, uh…”

_ C’MON, LITTLE GUY. LET’S GET YOU OUT OF HERE BEFORE YOU CAUSE A SCENE. _

He reaches up and lightly holds his forehead in his hand, Angela saying something to him, shuts his eyes as he’s led away from his ice cream and off thr0ugh the fog, back toward the h0u5e where he live5 with everyb0dy el5e...


End file.
